


you and i walk a fragile line (never thought i'd live to see it break)

by pocketgalaxies



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, alcohol tw, death tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:59:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3387743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketgalaxies/pseuds/pocketgalaxies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Carmilla is an angel for all the wrong and all the right reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and i walk a fragile line (never thought i'd live to see it break)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspirations: [+](http://faithlethalhane.tumblr.com/post/103597541470/i-cant-stop-picturing-that-long-walk-home-from) [+](http://rrileybllue.tumblr.com/post/107547895544/laura-actually-thought-she-killed-carmilla)
> 
> {haunted, taylor swift}

It takes two days before you cry.

Before that, you just feel like there's an anvil on your chest and your lungs are crushed to half their size, and when you push that rock over the cliff, the dean falls with fading screams and she takes your heart with her.

And when the fight is over, you find yourself crouched at the edge of the pit blacker than black, and behind your pupils Carmilla is crying and jumping into the light and dying over and over and over and over again.

Danny touches your shoulder and for a split second you really think it's snarky asshole Carmilla because Carmilla can't be dead, she _can't_.

(She is.)

Perry and LaF are leading the crowd back to your dorm room and you think you're probably the one that's supposed to be doing that because you're the one that dragged all these people (dragged Carmilla) to help in the first place, but you're lagging behind the crowd and leaning against Danny and Carmilla is _dead_.

(Carmilla is floating toward salvation, Carmilla is in that better place she deserves to be in, Carmilla is holy. This is what you tell yourself.)

When you all make it to 307, it's like there's a wall down the middle of the room and everybody is trying to fit on your side. You would thank them for respecting Carmilla's space ( _it's my half-room, cutie_ ) but the room feels so empty and you're already starting to realize that you'll have to _mourn_  when this is over, so instead you just walk over to your chair and hesitantly sit down.

The room is way too small for so many people to fit on your side, and Perry is the one to look at you with a grimace before guiding Natalie over to Carmilla's bed. The instant she sits down you can't help but inhale sharply, and Perry looks at you with a worry that's sharp around the edges, and all you can do is nod slightly. LaF's eyebrows furrow and they slowly help Elsie to sit down too.

 _Possession is nine-tenths_  pierces your ears like a scream and Carmilla holding up Betty's pink shirt shoots across your eyes like explosions, and you have to clutch your chest to remind yourself how to breathe.

You film for a few seconds but the word _dead_  passes your lips and you realize you can't do this without shattering, you can't talk about what just happened without wishing you were the one that sacrificed your life because that's what everybody expected you to do anyway, Carmilla was supposed to be the only one to survive any of this but in the end she was the only one who lost.

And yet your eyes have never been drier.

::

48 hours after everybody filed out of your room, 48 hours after trying to sleep but finding yourself staring at Carmilla's empty bed across from you, 48 hours after finally drifting off and waking to howling nightmares and blinding lights, you call your dad.

"Dad, help me," you say with a voice that breaks so much (too much) in three syllables that you want to slap yourself, "I don't know what to do."

"What's wrong?"

"I fell in love with my roommate," you tell him, and his breath hitches but you keep going, "but I was too reckless and too self-possessed and she had to save me, Dad, she _died_  to save me, and I need help because I feel like I'm disintegrating because I _killed_  her, she died for me and I killed her but I _loved_  her, I loved her so much, Dad, please."

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds but a part of you is fine with that because it's nice listening to his breathing, it's nice knowing that the other most important person in your life still has lungs that fill, still has a heart that beats and eyes that see.

(The last time you saw Carmilla's eyes she was crying and the last thing you said to Carmilla was, "We're done," and a part of you is glad (you hate yourself you hate yourself you hate yourself) that she doesn't have to see you anymore because she deserves better than _you just gave up_.)

And then your father says with a shaky voice, "God, honey, do you need me to come over there?" and you wonder if Carmilla would have ever called you _honey_. You think _probably not_  and then realize _she never will, now_ , and then you're crying like you've never cried before.

You cry for at least an hour and he doesn't say anything and he doesn't hang up (and you wonder if he'll ever know how thankful you are for that), and then you fall asleep and wake up to a salty yellow pillowcase, gasping with _Carm_  on your lips, and dead black eyes haunt you for three days.

::

When Danny carries Carmilla in and sets her on your bed, you think you might start going to church because Carmilla looks like an angel and you've never believed in God but maybe, maybe Carmilla really was touched by heaven. (You always knew she would end up too overwhelmingly wonderful to go to where you used to think she came from—she's too beautiful to go to hell.)

Every part of her is how you remember it and it's like no time has passed at all, and you kiss her and her lips taste like constellations.

::

"Dad, something brought her back to me," you say over the phone a few days later, and Carmilla smiles this soft smile that you're still getting used to. You lean your head on her shoulder and she kisses your hair before going back to her book.

"What? Really?" You can hear him mute the football game he's watching and you grin a little to try and will away the tears. (It doesn't really work, but for the first time in what feels like forever, crying doesn't feel like a prayer.)

"I'm coming home this weekend and I'm bringing her with me, if that's okay."

There's a breath of delayed disbelief, and then, "Okay, yeah, of course that's okay. Tha—that's wonderful. Wow, good for you, Laura." You giggle into the reciever because it's not every day you render your dad speechless and Carmilla silently laughs beside you.

"See you, Dad."

"See you."

You kiss Carmilla until you forget what day it is, and you feel like you can take on the world.

::

Carmilla is all huddled up in your scarf ("it's like a portable yellow pillow, cutie") and a little beanie, with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her coat, and she looks so young you could fall in love with her again and again for the rest of your life.

When your dad opens the door, you jump into his arms and he picks you up off the floor, whispers, "I'm so glad you're okay," into your ear, and you only hum in response because it's been too long since he gave you a hug as warm as this one.

And then he sets you down and looks at Carmilla (young beautiful _living_  Carmilla), and you can see him remember the phone call 48 hours after, remember that you were howling and screaming into the phone, and you think he's about to cry too.

Instead he shakes Carmilla's hand like she's a treasure and you can see Carmilla's tiny smile from behind the scarf, and your father says, "Good to have you here."

You really think God was kind to you, in the end.

::

Somehow you find yourself tucked into Carmilla's side on the couch and your dad may have had one too many beers and is sitting next to the two of you, and Carmilla is demonstrating a bunch of ridiculously obscure languages and your dad is hiccuping and laughing and insisting, "That's just gibberish stop lying to yourself."

And then suddenly he's grabbing onto Carmilla's hand with both of his and he's regarding her with this oddly dark and serious gaze that you would normally laugh at, and he says, "Thank you. Thank you for saving my daughter, thank you for loving her enough to die, thank you for coming back."

Carmilla stutters a little, but then looks at you and says, "She's...she's wonderful. She didn't really give me any choice."

::

The next day you're decorating the Christmas tree with your dad ("this hangover is a pain in the ass") and Carmilla is just on the couch, her chin resting on top of her hands on the back of the couch, and when he trips on a box of ornaments you squeal, "Dad!" and Carmilla laughs a lovely, real, lively laugh.

When you put the star on top, he hugs you and then Carmilla comes over and kisses the tip of your nose, and when you burrow your head into her shoulder she feels like cloud nine, feels like bliss.

She chuckles under her breath, wraps her arms around you, and you think heaven would have a hard time topping this.

**Author's Note:**

> Completed: 2/18/14 00:37


End file.
